


near the corner of marion and apple

by jollypuppet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Human, Dancing, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-12
Updated: 2012-04-12
Packaged: 2017-11-03 13:18:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/381758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jollypuppet/pseuds/jollypuppet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first house that Dean and Cas buy is near the corner of Marion Road and Apple Street.</p>
            </blockquote>





	near the corner of marion and apple

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a [post](http://the-raggedy-angel.tumblr.com/post/20729889345/for-some-reason-i-imagine-dean-and-cas-fixing-up) on Tumblr, and it kind of got away from me and just got ridiculously cute. Hey, what can I say?
> 
> This piece is also a lot less... _poetic_ , I guess. It's got more to do with the narrative, haha.

The first house that Dean and Cas buy is near the corner of Marion Road and Apple Street.

For all he’s worth, Dean whines into Cas’ ear about how  _Stepford_  it all is — how Marion sounds like somebody his mother would play bridge with on the weekend, and how Apple is a stupid name for a street anyway — but it’s mostly just a reason for him to drape himself over the brunette’s shoulders and get into his personal space, breathing against that sensitive spot behind his ear that makes the hair on his arms stand up. So Cas lets him complain half-heartedly up to the very moment that they’re signing the papers to buy the house, before saying, “I really like it, actually.”

That’s all it takes for Dean to shut his trap, because nowadays, all it takes to make him happy is to know that Cas is happy.

The house is empty for a pretty long while. They don’t have a lot of furniture between them — just a few pieces from the apartment they own together, but nothing with sentimental value, really — and so they’ll probably have to buy a table or two from the discount place less than a mile away, and maybe a painting or two because Cas is like that. Despite its emptiness, however, it already feels so  _them_  — it’s already filled with their life, their light, and Cas likes to spend most of his time near the corner of Marion Road and Apple Street, because it’s where he’s going to build a life with the man he loves.

That’s more than any cheap piece of furniture, in his opinion, and so he’s content with spending long summer days in the spacious rooms of the new house. The hallways echo with their voices, their laughter, from the emptiness of it all, and the first order of business is painting the walls of the living room.

Dean jokes, says that a stark red would be a good idea, and Cas reads new-age magazines, which normally say that painting the walls a sort of white — one that’s not  _exactly_  white but isn’t off-white either — is a fantastic idea, so they meet in the middle. John loads Dean’s truck up with two cans of a light chestnut color that Sam insists will compliment their furniture (Dean’s surprised by how girly he is sometimes) and John winks at him, only a certain degree of humor tinting his voice.

“You can pay me for the paint later.” he says. “Twenty bucks for both cans, but I guess it’s worth it for my son.” He then looks pointedly at Cas, and his smile warms up a bit. “And my son-in-law.”

The entire ride home, Cas is quiet, staring wistfully out the window at the passing, warmly-lit houses, a soft sort of smile on his face. When they pull back into their driveway, he rounds the front of the truck before Dean has a chance to grab the paint, grabs him gently by the front of his coat and kisses him softly. When he pulls away, he doesn’t say anything, but his thumb skirts along Dean’s jaw line for maybe half a moment or half a century, Dean’s not entirely sure anymore, before moving to grab one of the cans.

They’ve laid out a mattress in the main dining room, and there are locks on the doors and the windows, and it’s summer, and there’s a diner down the road, and neither of them really want to go back to their apartment (because, to be honest, it’s just not  _home_  anymore) so they sleep in the dining room, surrounded by the echoing bareness of the house, secure in its empty potential.

Well, they try to sleep, in any case. Dean ends up suspending himself above Castiel, kissing him softly and whispering quiet promises to him, telling him how beautiful everything’s going to turn out. He tells him about how they’ll spend Saturdays watching bad soap operas on the couch and not move for hours, how he’ll teach Cas how to cook, how they’ll christen every room, every surface in the house, several times over, and soon his hands are roaming and Cas is moaning and the whole sleeping idea gets thrown out the window pretty quick.

Dean’s a smart son of a bitch, of course, so he keeps clean clothes in the back seat of the truck. Some of his old AC/DC shirts, mostly, and jeans, but they’re all his, which Cas doesn’t object to for a second. He ends up padding barefoot through the empty house in Dean’s old clothes, small frame even more vulnerable-looking underneath clothes that are just a  _tad_  too big, and the eldest Winchester can’t help but snag him by the hips and push him against a wall, kissing him until he’s gasping for air, arms loosely wrapped around Dean’s shoulders, pupils blown wide.

Dean leaves him like that, smirking, and Cas ends up leaning against the wall for a moment or two more, breathing hard, trying to get his head to catch up with his body. Dean shows up with the cans of paint and shrugs innocently, telling Cas that the room won’t paint itself.

Cas gets his revenge when Dean turns his back, and he ends up slowly running his arms around the Winchester’s waist, hands trailing underneath his shirt, fingers splayed against his stomach, and he kisses Dean’s earlobe, feeling him inhale sharply. Cas hums quietly in the back of his throat before abandoning the escapade, and he hears Dean’s breathy laugh behind him, and knows the contest is far from over.

It’s Dean’s job to line the window with blue painter’s tape and cover the floor with tarps while Cas sneaks out to the truck again and pulls out the old CD player he has stored underneath the passenger’s seat, and he grabs the first burned CD he sees in the glove compartment. He smiles to himself before sneaking back inside, plugging it into the first outlet he sees.

Soon, the halls are filled with the sounds of Genesis’  _That’s All_ , and Cas can hear Dean’s muffled snort echo through the empty rooms of the house.

“Cas?” he asks from the living room, amusement soaking through his voice. “What are you doing playing Sam’s CDs?”  
  
“Sure, Dean.” Castiel replies quietly, reentering the living room, and Dean stands up from where he’s filling the paint tray, and Cas winds his arms around Dean’s waist, leaning up to kiss him. “It’s not a horribly romantic song, I’m afraid.”  
  
Dean shrugs. “It’s one of the catchier ones, at least.” His eyes flit to where the CD player sits in the hallway, and he kisses Castiel quickly on the lips, before singing quietly against his lips, “It’s always the same, it’s just a shame, that’s all.”  
  
His hands are on Cas’ hips and he tries to sway him, but Castiel just laughs and pushes him away, padding over to where his own tray and brush have been laid out, and he gestures at Dean’s tray with a smirk. “Are we painting or not?”  
  
Dean sticks his tongue out, but smiles good-naturedly at Cas, picks up his brush and starts at work.

The CD goes through its tracks quietly as Dean and Cas talk and laugh among themselves, every sound bouncing off the walls and coming back to them, the disk cycling through a number of tracks. Cas particularly enjoys Chicago’s  _Saturday In The Park_ , and Dean nearly gets paint everywhere dancing to Fleetwood Mac’s  _Go Your Own Way_ , and they’re a bit more than halfway through the CD when their shirts and hands and arms are covered with paint, the walls having come a long way from stark white, and they laugh at one another, seemingly forgetting the task at hand.

They hit Stealers Wheel’s  _Stuck In The Middle With You_.

Dean laughs, cracking his back. “See, I told you this isn’t mine. Sam listens to all this, not me.” Castiel laughs from where he’s busy covering a patch of white on the wall, and Dean smirks a bit to himself, letting his brush fall back into his tray. He couldn’t care less if he’s a fan of Stealers Wheel or not, Cas is still  _in his clothes_  and  _covered in paint_  and actually having a good time with Dean (something that the eldest Winchester has learned not to take for granted.)  
  
But what strikes him most is that they’re painting  _their_  living room. The living room they’re going to spend the rest of their lives in together, that they’ll spend lazy Saturday mornings in, watching bad soap operas, and he’s overcome by how much he wants Cas to look away from the wall, to look at him.

He grabs Cas’ hips, plasters himself against the smaller man’s back, and Castiel laughs a bit in the back of his throat, his free hand sneaking back to find the belt loop of Dean’s jeans. Dean starts to sway them back and forth, and he whispers in Castiel’s ear.

“Dance with me?”  
  
“ _You’re_  the one who said the walls aren’t going to paint themselves.”  
  
Dean laughs against the back of Castiel ear, presses a kiss to the sensitive skin there, and the smaller man hums. “There’s this awesome new invention called a  _break_ , Cas. Why don’t you take one?” He hums against Castiel’s neck to the music before jumping in, low in Castiel’s ear. “Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right, here I am —”  
  
Castiel turns in his arms quickly, his brush having found itself back to its tray, and kisses Dean soundly before he can finish, swallowing his words with a pleased purr. Dean groans into the kiss, making better purchase on Castiel’s hips before smirking. He growls playfully as he pulls the brunette into the middle of the room, light shining in through the big, taped window, and they dance together.

It’s a fast song, so it’s not terribly easy to dance to, but they make do, mostly stumbling over themselves and laughing, exchanging quick little kisses here and there, Dean giving Cas directions of where to step or when to turn, quiet support that’s normally followed by an approving murmur or a warm kiss.

Castiel’s a much better dancer than he lets on, Dean realizes, when he finds himself pushed against the sill of the window, and Castiel looks up at him warmly, the song dying down behind them. Castiel leans up and presses his lips to Dean’s, softly and warmly, and the eldest Winchester groans into the kiss, pulling Castiel closer. His hands are covered with paint, and he ends up getting some of it on the brunette’s cheek, his forehead, and he laughs, brushing his thumb over it.

“This’ll be really nice, Cas.” he says quietly, moving his thumb down to trace the swell of Castiel’s lower lip lovingly. “You were right about this house, you know.”

“Even though Marion sounds like someone your mother would play bridge with on weekends?”

Dean shrugs and quirks an eyebrow, amused. “Well, my parents  _did_  raise a  _marvelous_ family, didn’t they?”

“Two amazing sons.” Castiel replies, pupils wide, enraptured with Dean’s face, and he presses another quick kiss to his lips. Dean runs his hands down Castiel’s sides and smiles, leaning their foreheads together.

“And an incredible son-in-law.”

Castiel kisses him again, warm and open-mouthed and  _wet_ , filled with promise, and Dean forgets about the paint trays and the tarps and the blue tape, slowly walks Castiel back towards the dining room, whispering against his lips and kissing him softly only a few times, and they don’t  _make_  it to the dining room, but they make it to the hallway before Dean pushes Castiel up against the nearest wall and Castiel  _whines_  with it.

Dean’s happy to oblige him.

They finish painting all of the house’s rooms after two months — and they eventually have to call in Sam and John and Bobby, Jody and Ellen and Jo, even Gabriel and Balthazar, at one point, for backup, because they really can’t do it on their own, and everything’s finally set up — shined and gleaming, furnished and finally a  _home_  — after another four.

The first house that Dean and Cas buy is near the corner of Marion Road and Apple Street. They build their life there.


End file.
